Cry Little Sister
by apatheticCarochii
Summary: I don't like you. None of you. Nobody knows, nobody cares. This world is so rotten. Feelings such as this just get in the way with all I'm trying to accomplish. Yet I can't get away. It it like I'm under a spell that will stay with me until I die."
1. Near

Okay, I'm making a new story titled cry little sister

**Okay, I'm making a new story titled cry little sister. It is another MelloXNear but oh well. This is more deep, and it will have POVs'.**

**I do not own Death Note.**

_Cry Little Sister_

The sun illuminated radiance down onto the orphanage as the day began for children of all ages and types. It was peaceful outside with all the cool wind and trees that provided shade when kids went to play after their studies, and it was also somewhat calm and content. The thing, or should I say person, that separated the inside the outside, was the children that would sometimes cause ruckus, and sometimes chaos between their fellow students. But kids do that, so it would come and pass. It was only natural.

But there was a certain person, a certain blond, blue-eyed boy, who caused the most chaos in the building of geniuses. This boy was, in my opinion, impulsive, loud, and as bright as he was, could be an idiot sometimes.

He went by the name of Mello.

Even I, Near, don't know his real name. There are only four people that are at this orphanage who use a different name than their 'god-given' one. (I do not know why they call it that because your parents give you a name, not God, if there is one.) One is me, the rambunctious Mello and Matt, and the man who we all look up to, that all of us hope to be some day, L. We use different names because what L does, we will do. We are the top three, and to be L material, it is said you should have name of which isn't normal. The name Matt is completely normal; I have no idea why the redheaded boy would pick that name, but L, Near, and Mello? When you say these names to adults, they give questionable looks as if we are playing a prank. I remember when the ice cream man came over to the orphanage the way he usually did every Friday evening and asked me what my name was. When I told him, he just laughed and gave me my ice cream and added it with a 'Kids these days.'

I don't go to the ice cream truck anymore.

Anyway, this Mello boy, to put it bluntly, loathed me. Never a day of my life here at Wammys has been a day without a rude comment, a hit in the head, or the annual 'knocking of the dice tower.' Sometimes I would open a box of one of my favorite puzzles, and about a fourth of the pieces would be chewed up, making the puzzle basically ruined. The boy was only 13, why does he have to be so mean? Where some of the thoughts that would go through my head (and still do on some occasions) when I was still not used to being made a fool of. I was amazed at how brilliant Mello could be, and yet always make me want to just whack him, which is very surprising to me, because I couldn't hurt anything. I'm not able to hurt anything because I'm so puny. My arms and legs are thinner than a twig and my stomach has no muscle on it what so ever. This sadly,

makes me totally vulnerable to any physical violence that is usually given to me by Mello.

When the blond makes fun of my physical appearance, he reminds me of my father, the man that I hated more than anything in the world, and the terrible man that killed my mother and almost killed me. Actually he already did. I'm sorry that probably didn't make sense. What I meant was that because of him, I wish I were dead and he is the reason I am in this orphanage. Every time I think of my father, I feel dirty as if I just rolled in a puddle of mud and unknown filth. I shouldn't even consider him as my father, because an actual 'father' certainly does not have any….se-sexual activity with his son.

Uh, that word makes me want to vomit. And if a father is, then I wish I was never born.

But it is true. Multiple times I was, as some would say raped by my so-called 'father' while my mom was brutally beaten when he was drunk.

Actually, Mello didn't remind me about my father at all. Mello was a regular bully, but only out of jealousy and inside angst, with an angelic face. He reminded me of my

mother a little. I know it might sound weird for me to say that about another male, but he is one of the most gorgeous people I know. His blond hair that I want to feel so bad, those beautiful blue eyes, and despite all the chocolate he ate, he was thin but muscular. Every time I see Mello changing during P.E (we have to take physical education together) my face starts to feel warmer along with the pit of my stomach, but I don't know why. One time Mello saw me staring at him, and before I noticed, he whacked me in the back of the head and called me a….oh what was the word? Faggot? I don't know what that means, but it made my chest hurt so I guess it was an insult towards me.

Needless to say, I still don't know what that means.

My dad on the other hand was dirty, gruff, and smelt bad. He usually had the stench of sweat, alcohol, and…. me on him. Every time he came through the door after 'work' I would sit in my room hiding under the covers as my mother screamed or my dad broke the possessions in our rundown house. Now I know that there was no point in hiding under the covers as if it was a shield from my 'dad', but it only made his lust for scared little boys grow. How stupid was I, thinking that a piece of cloth would make my mothers screams go away, the smells go away, and my dad disappear.

When I think of my father I always wonder, why would a man become lustful of a little boys fear, his nightmares? There where times I would wake up in the middle of the night, in horror from a nightmare, but I didn't go to my parents bed, in fear that I would awake my dad, and earn a beating, or another moment of him telling me to scream his name of pleasure, as I was already screaming but not out of pleasure and not his name. I would cry out to my mom, hoping for her to stop him, but on most occasions, she would just look at me and cry, out of fear she would be killed. The only time she tried to stop him was the last time I saw her alive….

Mello and my father were totally different. Angel and devil, cat and dog, rain and hurricane, day and night.

Even though I acted as if I didn't care that the blond loathed me, I would always feel a pain when he hit me or told me he hated the very sight of me. Of course I could never tell him all these things, but I want Mello to like me, to love me, to hug me, to kiss me. I can't tell him that because what will happen if he doesn't even pick on me after he realizes the feelings that are forced to be trapped inside of my cool exterior. If he can't even insult me, I'd start to feel inhuman. Ever since my mother died, I thought my purpose of living was a tool, or a punching bag for the lustful, the hated, and the impulsive. I still think that only now that it's Mello hurting me, I'm glad with his actions. I just wish he did it out of that one emotion that I heard can destroy you, that takes away pride, and that people usually die for…

Love.

**Okay, end of first chapter! Good? Bad? Review!!**


	2. Loathed

The second chapt

**The second chapt. to Cry Little Sister!! XD It is MelloXNear so it is completely opposite from I Got To Get You Into My Life. So if you do not like that story, well you'll probably like this one! **

**I do not own Death Note!**

"Hey freak!" a familiar voice shouted in my direction. I tried to ignore the names that were called at me and instead kept working on an algebra paper that was due in the afternoon. When an eight year old has to do circumference, you need some concentration. "Hey you! I'm talkin'…" the voice came closer, and then a pair if hands slammed on my desk. "to you!" I stared at the hands on my desk as if staring at them could make them go away. But then again I didn't want them to leave me. I finally looked up and I saw Mello, not surprised. My grey orbs met his blue ones, and he snarled at me. That was always the snarl that told me he wanted me to look scared. I would never be scared of such a beautiful creature, no matter how impulsive he was.

"That bitch Linda told me that you got number one on the major semester test!" He leaned in closer to my face, so close that I could actually feel his hot breath on my face. I started to feel something at the pit of my stomach. "Is this true? Even though I didn't sleep for 8 days studying and reviewing for this stupid test, you made the top score of 99.8, while I got 99.4?!" I sometimes cursed at how intelligent I was because I knew that if I weren't so smart, Mello would probably like me like he did with Matt. I was sometimes so jealous of Matt only because of his relationship with Mello. It was said for them to be boyfriends, and the day I heard it my heart crumpled. I told him in my calm voice "Yes, you heard correct." Mello gave a death glare at me, angered by the fact he was in second place again and that my tone of voice was calm and cool. Even though I didn't look like it, I was a little nervous. As he continued to study my face I could feel my heart pounding right out of my chest. I had to finish our little talk.

"Well Mello I'd love to chat more, but as you can see I'm working." I looked down at my paper waiting for the blond to leave me to my work. He stayed there, just scowling at me. "I don't care if you're working." He firmly said. "I want to know ho-" Mello was cut off as Matt began to walk over to him. "Hey, Mels, some of the guys outside need another player, you want to?" Matt looked over at me. The orange tinted goggles hid his eyes very well, so even I couldn't tell his reaction to see me talking with Mello. My mental question was solved when he gave a tiny wave, one that didn't really say 'hello' as more of 'I want to see if you can talk, little person', and a "Sup Near." I brushed off his little greeting and looked over to the blond. Apparently when Matt showed up, his features became brighter than they were a couple minutes ago. I hid my jealousy.

As the blond and his friend began to walk away from me, I quickly said something that would make Mello come back later, that would make him angry at me and I'd earn a whack in the head. My departing sentence was, "Try harder next time and you might get ahead." The footsteps stopped and I knew that Mello was furious at my little comment. Matt put his goggles around his neck, and his eyes gave off a worried look as Mello stomped over to me and grabbed my white collar. Jackpot.

"What the fuck did you say to me?!" the furious blond almost yelled in my face. I realized my eyes were closed and I slowly opened them to see Mello's face. He was so close to me, our noses were almost touching. Warmth in my stomach grew, and I started to regret what I said. But only a little. He let go of my collar and grabbed a handful of my snowy white hair, which he pulled on firmly, causing me to make a muffled yelp that he could barely hear. Mello let go of my hair and put both hands on his hips and said with a scowl, "I'm older than you, so unless you want a good beating, show some goddamn respect."

And with that he left me to my long awaited work that was yet to be completed. As I started to work again I began to smell the scent of delicious chocolate on me…

"And so, we can all agree that it was the Karankawa who were cannibals, but only because of religious beliefs." Mrs. Wilson looked around the class as everyone nodded their heads in agreement. She put her book down and started to fix here orange hair into a bun as she asked the class, "And what beliefs were these?" A few hands shot up. Mrs. Wilson sat up from her desk and looked at the students with her brown eyes. "Near!" Hands went down as I was called on. "What beliefs?"

I could almost feel my brain cells going through files around my brain in a frenzy as I finally answered, "The Karankawa were cannibals because they thought they could gain the persons power and spirit if they consumed them." Mrs. Wilson nodded and smiled. "Yes! Yes, exactly!" I sat up as my favorite teacher praised me. Mrs. Wilson never told her age, but I think she was in her late thirties. She was tall, didn't have a good figure, and had very white skin that was dotted with freckles. You could say she was plain, but her personality always made up for that. I'm so grateful I have her and not that other Social Studies teacher, Mr. Rumple. I heard from Linda that Matt was his target, and that gave me the creeps. Mrs. Wilson was certainly not a pedophile.

As the teacher wrote on the board, **Cannibals**, she turned around quickly, cupped one hand around her mouth as if she was telling a secret and said, "It is said that the meat between your fingers is the sweetest meat of all." She turned around again to the board, and students began to give disgusted looks at their fingers. I slowly looked down at y little pale hand and thought; _I don't think I have any meat…._ Suddenly a buzzing noise filled the school, and just like that, it became Friday afternoon. "All right, kiddies, don't forget that we're taking the Texas state test next Monday." I was the only one left in the class because of how slow I pack. Usually the kids knock me down from getting up so quickly.

I said 'good-bye' to Mrs. Wilson who was currently erasing the board, and headed out to my room where I would finish watching that one movie that I stumbled across in the hall yesterday, 'The Lost Boys.' The DVD case looked really interesting and it had Cory Feldman in it. He wasn't a Mello, but he sure was good-looking.

When I returned to my room, ready to watch the rest of my movie, I noticed that the case was gone. If the case was gone, then the DVD was gone to. I pouted to myself. There goes my afternoon. I lay down on my blue bed in thought, wondering who took my Lost Boys and why? It didn't take that long for me to realize that it must've been Mello and Matt, his way of getting back at me from this morning. I sighed as my thoughts started to collide with conflict and things that were miniscule in the world at this moment, even for me.

_Should I go get it? No, I'll just get spit in my face. I wonder if I'll ever see the rest of that movie? Actually Edgar and Allen Frog kinda remind me of Mello and Matt. Actually, who in the world has the last name of 'Frog?' then again, who comes up with the name 'Near?' Some man named Far? He he, that was kind of funny. Speaking of names, the name 'Wiest' sounds funny. I would laugh at that name all day if I wasn't so shut in, but what can you do? I wonder if Mello doesn't like me because I'm shy and creepy looking. That couldn't be, he's a friend with Matt and Matt isn't exactly a social butterfly…_I stopped my thinking as I started to fall in and out of sleep. I was so bored that I could take a nap at 5:00 in the afternoon.

Thoughts of the blond drifted through my head as the song I recently heard on The Lost Boys popped into my head.

_A last fire will rise behind those eyes  
Black house will rock, blind boys don't lie  
Immortal fear, that voice so clear  
Through broken walls, that scream I hear_

Cry, little sister - Thou shall not fall  
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die  
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear  
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill….

**Second Chapter done! Review!!**


	3. Talk

N'kay, sorry I didn't update this one sooner

N'kay, sorry I didn't update this one sooner. I had to go over to San Antonio and that meant no computer.

**I do not own Death Note or Matt or Near or Mello, ect.**

"_Momma, why is he doing this!?" Salty tears started to fall from the little boys eyes as a strong pair of greasy hands pinned him down. He called out to the tall blond lady standing in the corner of the room again. "Momma! Make him stop! Please!" the little boy started to struggle under the older mans weight as the disgusting stench of alcohol hit his nostrils. _

_Suddenly the smell went away as the crying boy saw that his mother was trying desperately to claw the drunken man off of him. "It's okay sweetie! Mommy is-" Wham! And the woman fell onto the floor while the pale boy coward in fear as his dad slowly turned around with a demonic smile on his face and mumbled, "That bitch got what was coming to her…" He began to walk over to the boy who was in shock at the sight of his mother on the wooden floor, bleeding from the head and turning blue and her eyes growing dull and grey. He gasped as a large hand pushed on his chest that was about to crush his lungs. Out of instinct, he yelped at the unwanted touch and started to cry for help while the drunk slowly unbuttoned his shirt…_

I woke up from my nap with a gasp. I played the whole dream over in my head again while rubbing my head that was soaked with sweat. I've had that dream many times and most people would think that the terrible memories of that wretched night would fade away and not scare me, but every time seemed more horrible. I wiped my head on my white sleeve and looked over to the digital clock on my nightstand. My so-called 'nap' was a good four hours. I knew that because my clock read in its simple numbers 9:15. Lethargically, I got up from my creaky bed, changed out of my sweaty shirt, and went down for dinner.

Usually the actual dinnertime for most people would be around seven or eight, but here it started exactly at nine because some of the older kids, like Mello, would have extra classes like art, reading, or a foreign language. It was kind of like an elective only it was taken more seriously and lasted for about two hours. I don't want to sound like a stalker, but I found out recently that Mello took athletics (were all you do is run, so I don't know why anyone would join) and Spanish, while his friend Matt took I-tech and was forced to be in Spanish with Mello. My electives would kick in when I turned eleven and at the time I was ten, so I had to figure out what to take. I planned to take something that wasn't tiring and then one that the blond would be in like French or…maybe he would take Spanish again. I'll have to find out.

Quickly, I walked down the stairs hoping to see Mello at the dinner table. To my luck, he was. My walking began to slow down as I saw that he looked putout. The only thing that gave it away was his frown and the fact that he was vigorously attacking his piece of chicken. It actually looked a little funny. I grabbed a small piece of glazed chicken, a scoop of corn, and a baked potato that I knew I wouldn't finish, but it looked good and sat down at the table, two seats away from the angry blond. It wasn't that noisy because I had come late and that made me happy. It was the perfect time to try and talk to Mello!

I took a little bit of chicken and looked over at the blond. I started to have more conflicting thoughts, wondering if it would be a smart idea to talk to him when he was angry. Plus, he loathed he. Even when he wasn't in a mood he still wouldn't talk to me. Then again, I would just ask him a question. What harm would that do?

I scooted a little closer, thinking of what to say. _I should keep my usual cool…_I thought, but it was hard. We were basically alone. Even Matt wasn't there, which was odd. Then I concluded that the reason Mello was mad was because he and Matt had gotten into a fight, most likely. Even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of joy knowing that I had him all to myself wether he liked it or not. I swallowed the chicken and tried to start.

"Uh…hi Mello." The latter jumped a little and looked in my direction, his frown deepening much to my dismay. "What the hell do ya want, Near? Can't you see I'm eating?" That bit of joy in my heart went away, but I still continued the 'talk'. "Yes, I can see that. But I wanted to ask you something." His angry face almost disappeared and in its place, confusion. "Well I can't say I mind until I know what you want to ask. So shoot." That happiness came back like roller coaster and I continued. "I just want to know what electives you will take next year." Mello's confusion left as he asked, "Why do you care? Why should I tell my rival my electives as if we were having a polite conversation?" He took a piece of the chicken in his mouth again, leaving me to think of an answer that wouldn't sound like I was trying to get into the same class as him. "Umm…well it would be my first year of being able to take an elective, so I was wondering if you could tell me what class would be the best for me."

Mello stopped chewing his chicken as he froze, in shock that I was, to put it bluntly, asking for his help. He gave a little smirk in my direction that always made me feel warm and said snidely, " So you need help, do ya?" he put down his fork and put his golden hair behind his ear as he thought. I then began to wonder if he would answer me truthfully. He knew I couldn't run to save my soul, so athletics was out of the question. Mello looked over to me again and I realized I felt strangely warm in the face. "Why are you red?" he asked. I put my cold hand up to my cheek, trying desperately to hide my flushed face. "May you just answer my question?"

Mello gave a 'humph' and continued. "I will take athletics again and most likely force Matt to be in French with me. I'm getting tired of Spanish." He thought for a few seconds again and said; "I suggest you take something easy. If you pick a foreign language, you shouldn't take Spanish. I can't picture you of all people talkin' 'seniorita' and all that stuff." He finished off his chicken and started to sit up from the cushion chairs. "Is that all?" he asked, looking down at me. I tried to cool off by taking a sip of my apple juice and replied, "No. T-thank you."

As I watched him walk away, I admired how gracefully he walked, one foot in front of the other. I snapped put of my dreamy state and continued to eat the cold food, a tinge of happiness in me. My feelings got the better of me as I began to think. _Maybe he told me not to take Spanish because he wanted me to be in French with him! Maybe he does like me! _

I got up from the empty table, threw away my half eaten food, and walked up to my room again. As I opened the door, I could see a DVD case on my bed. I walked over to it and smiled as I realized it was 'The Lost Boys' movie. Quickly, I put the disc in my T.V as I plopped down on my bed, making it creak. Turning off my lamp to set the mood, I fast forward to where I had left off.

Sam, Allen and Edgar had just stabbed the vampire Marko making blood pour everywhere. I gave a look of disgust at the sight and laid down on my bed. The movie was great. After they killed Marko they had all left over to Sam and Michaels' house were they had put garlic in water, put holy water inside water guns and got wooden stakes. What surprised me was that even after they killed what they thought was the head vampire, David, it turned out that the man Diane Wiests' character was dating was the head vampire, and their grandpa ran into the house with his car, only to kill the head vampire by shoving him through a huge piece of wood.

Before I knew it, it was 10:45 and I wasn't even tired. It was probably because of my long nap I had not to long ago. Because of my curfew, I stayed in my dark room playing with one of my dice, turning it, counting the dots, and sometimes putting it in my mouth like a child would do. Even though I always felt like this, tonight I really felt alone. I finally had talked to Mello, I watched the rest of my favorite movie, so why wasn't I happy? Maybe I was just spoiled. Or maybe I just wanted to talk to Mello even more now that I knew how to approach him. It was most likely the latter. I walked over to my bed and forced myself to go to sleep, attempting to think of something that would make me feel a little happy. After about ten minutes I found something.

_I know what elective to take next year…_

**Done with that. I'm hungry. I'll update laterz.**

**Review!**


	4. Cold

I actually don't have a plan for this fic, unlike my other ones

I actually don't have a plan for this fic, unlike my other ones. I actually need a lot (A LOT) more reviews for this one! Unlike 'I Got to Get You Into My Life' and 'An Amusing Stew' I will stop this one if I don't get enough reviews.

**Review! I do NOT own Death Note!**

It's been three days since that evening when Mello had an actual conversation with me, and now all I think of is my electives next year. Being in the same class as Mello made me unusually warm and happy, something I don't feel that often. Actually, I rarely ever feel truly glad or entertained about anything. My whole mind is set on Mello and yet somehow my grades are actually better and my final grade of 98.9 has reached to a whopping 99.9, which pleased L, when he found this out. I almost felt guilty that I didn't even try at all, and I was number one while Mello studied every day and still came in second. Was it even possible that I was a human boy? People (and by 'people' I mean Mello) would call me robotic among other things and I can understand why.

I haven't cried in at least two years, maybe even more. I rarely eat anything, and my brain functions in a way that actually scares me a little. When I think I feel something in my head grab a file from the back of my head and I know all of a sudden. And if I don't know the answer I guess, but they always turn out right. I was starting to think I was just an object to everybody that was made by my father for sex and to use as a punching bag. I tried to ignore these thoughts that made me feel miserable, but I couldn't ignore the facts. I was meant to be a tool that would go forth in life unloved and lonely.

Actually, I don't mind being lonely, used, or unloved. If Mello is alive I'm not lonely, if Mello is the one using me then I don't mind, and if Mello doesn't love me that means he knows I exist, which is good enough for me. I don't know why I have such strong feelings toward him though. He was rude, loud, competitive, and loathed me. Why do I love him so much?

There I go again using that word. 'Love'. You can say it all you want, but if you don't show it, it's not true. Ate my feeling for Mello not true then? No. I think by now I would've noticed that I was just fantasizing instead of actually having feelings for him. So I do love him? I'm confusing myself….

Mrs. Wilson shuffled papers and asked me to go to her desk. I nodded and stood before her, wondering what she would need me for. As she wrapped her orange-red hair in a bun, she fixed her reading glasses and said, "You know that test we had last Friday? Every class took it?" I nodded. I didn't know what she could be talking about unless….I knew. "Mello scored how high?" Mrs. Wilson's green eyes widened in surprise at the fact that I already knew and she said, "You earned a 98 and Mello received a 99? This is actually strange to ask, but are you okay? Has something been going on?" I shook my head as I examined the miracle paper. Mello got ahead of me somehow…he wouldn't be mad at me. I wanted to smile, but I didn't.

"Okay. I'm not saying I'm upset that he scored higher, but this has never happened before so…" she put a stamp on my paper that had a smiley face. "Try harder next time." I replied with a barley audible 'okay' and left, almost searching the halls for Mello. He probably heard the news and was over joyed. Who knows what that would be like?

I looked up and down the halls until I caught a glimpse of blond hair and walked toward it. What I saw was a big smile in the blonds face, him looking at his paper and Matt looking at it too, sitting between his legs. I wanted to be between those legs. Anyway, I walked by casually, as if I didn't know he was there and just as I suspected, he stopped me and said cheerfully, "Hey Near! Did ya hear the news?" I stopped and twirled a hair.

"Yes, I did actually. I must say, I'm very pleased actually and I feel happy for you." After that, all activity stopped. Dead silence. Mello and Matt looked shocked, as if I wasn't allowed to say that I was proud of Mello, much less be happy for someone. "What?" I asked. Mello just gawked at me. Matt looked up a little. "I think he's serious, mate." My mind wondered at what Matt just said. _Mate? _He was British, not Australian.

"Near," Mello looked deep into my eyes. "Are you sick today?" The question burned my mind, mostly because of the tone he had said it in. My hand consciously went up to twirl a piece of hair while I turned away to walk off. "Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything." After a few steps away from the blond and his friend, I felt a strong hand grab me, pulling me back. I almost yelped at the sudden contact and wanted the hand to move away from my shoulder, before I was too scared. "Mello, please don't touch me." Even though I didn't look up to him, I could feel his face twisting in anger at me and then his grip grew tighter, almost causing me to whine. I didn't know if he would ever let go, but I couldn't tell if I wanted him to leave or stay with me. The warm hand was almost terrifying and…comforting at the same time.

"I thank you for the 'complement', but I don't need it from the likes of you." And with that he used his strength to shove me away. Reluctantly, I started to walk up to my room and could hear what I believed to be Matt say, "Damn Mel, that was a little harsh.

I entered the room that was spotless and had a faint flower smell to it. It was so quiet and lonely that sometimes I thought that I was the only one living in the orphanage because it was as if my walls blocked out all sound. I put my book and paper on my small desk and sat down on my bed, getting ready to watch another movie I had found that was titled _The Notebook. _I kept wondering who was the one just leaving all these movies out in the hall, but they kept me company, so I didn't complain.

The movie was okay and it had some parts I found…uncomfortable, but it was sweet. It wasn't as good as the Lost Boys though. The only part I truly thought was beautiful and made me think was the very end. It would be very sad, not knowing that the person that was standing right next to you was the love of your life a few minutes ago. It would be even worse to only remember that you married them for five minutes, only to go back and start to scream at them. But to some people that would be love, wouldn't it?

The movie was done at exactly 8:49; so sadly, I had time to spare…that meant another hour or two alone. No entertainment. No friends. No Mello. It was hell. _'I don't want to think anymore, that's all I ever do!' _I thought. It was strange, but I couldn't help but feel jealous for all the kids here. They all lost their family, but they had friends and weren't beaten or offended anymore. To the average person they would see them as completely normal children, until they looked deeper and deeper into their background. Kids here, I recently found out, have seen their parents killed, severed to pieces, and sick. Not only that, but all of them have most likely been to a foster home with strange people. I know that Matt did, and that's a fact. Roger slipped it out by accident while he was telling me how lucky I was.

'_You were sent here automatically, so you don't know what other foster places do or what goes on there. Why Matt went to one and an older boy s-" _and he stopped there, thank god. His past had nothing to do with me, if anyone Mello.

'_There I go again…thinking!'_ I felt so angry and yet sad. I went over to my mirror to see if there was a change in my features, but as always there wasn't. Not even a furrowed brow. Nothing. _I don't get it! I'm steaming, but for some reason I can't…_I put my fingers to the corners of my mouth and pulled down, forcing myself to frown. It hurt a lot because I wasn't used to it and I automatically let go. As I kept poking my face in search of emotion, I realized that if I, the person who has control over my feelings, my actions, and my appearance couldn't get any emotion from myself, then how in the world could Mello? He couldn't, that was the problem. It was obvious that he had been trying to get me to feel human, to feel inferior like him, but I wasn't…emotional. You would have to put a gun to my head to make me shiver.

I felt like a freak.

**This was supposed to be short, I'm sorry. But this was just so ya'll could know what Near thinks of and the problems with emotion…Review!**


	5. Doubt

I say 'Hi' to the few who read this ^^ I hope this can get better, but homework be overflowing. And I've been sick, so yeah. Please Review my darlings! (but you guys are older than me probably so I shouldn't say darling.)

I do NOT own Death Note!!! D

Countless days had passed quickly since my cold reality check, and it all stayed the same.

Get up, go to classes, play with toys, eat dinner, and then try to entertain myself at night. Boring, boring, boring!! Day after day with no talking, no friends, no…emotion. Without pain.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And the worst part was, Mello hadn't acknowledged me ever since the day I complimented on his grades. Did he just give up on me? Am I strange when I feel good for him? The question that has been bugging me most of all though…

Am I not supposed to be happy?

If I could ask someone, anyone, that question they would pity me. Or laugh if they thought I wasn't being serious. No, I doubt they would laugh, because aren't I supposed to be serious all the time?

I'm so sorry, all these questions….

I was sitting at my seat quietly in Social Studies, waiting for Mrs. Wilson to walk in any moment. The few students in the class were in a bundle, talking idly to each other while I sat there alone and did nothing but think. Think.

If some being gave me a choice to whether to be a genius, who could be known world wide and have a mind so complex only I could understand what was going on, or a complete idiot, I'd choose the idiot. I know it sounds crazy, but having to think every day, every waking hour….it's too much in my opinion. Being in thought is just like talking aloud to yourself, only nobody can hear you. That being a fact right there, I'm crazy. Talking to myself every minute.

I then noticed all the kids had sat down. Mrs. Wilson was here, tidying her desk as always and taking enormous gulps of coffee. It was amazing at how much caffeine one could take in one sitting. I've tried coffee before and I'd thrown up from the bitter taste. Then again, did I really look like the type who would have any liquid other than water? Most would be surprised that I actually ate. Same with chocolate….

"Okay class, settle down, and settle down!" Mrs. Wilson had some exasperation in her voice. Funny, I thought coffee would keep you perkier. She walked over to my desk with a mug in her hand.

"Near hun, may you go to the teacher lounge and fill my mug again?" The class looked at me for an answer and I just nodded. What, did they think I would say no?

I grabbed her mug gently and began to walk out the door as she gratefully chirped a 'thank you'.

I was two halls away from the classroom when I realized…I didn't know where the teacher's lounge was. No teacher had ever asked me to run an errand, and I had never even gone close to staff territory except the kitchen. Should I have gone back to ask? No, that would be embarrassing. My choices where to use common knowledge or to ask any one who had come up in the hallway.

"I can't believe it…" I mumbled. "Stupid!" Mentally scolding myself for not asking Mrs. Wilson before I left the class. Then a strong smell over whelmed my nostrils. It was…bitter. Very bitter. I looked down into Mrs. Wilson's cup and sure enough, the mug still had some dark coffee in it. I slowly put in closer to my face and sniffed it a few times. Revolting.

"How can anyone eat this-ah!"

I yelped as the hot drink spilt all over my white shirt as I tumbled over onto the hard floor. I looked to the mug on the floor and realized how scorching hot the coffee was, and how it was burning my torso. Quickly, I lifted my shirt just enough to see the damage and began to rub the red spot the stood out on my creamy stomach.

"God, I hate coffee…"

"Uh…" another voice said. Another voice…someone had seen me! I turned around at the witness, hoping I wasn't crying from the burn. To my horror (or delight?) the one who had seen me fall, yelp, and have a front row seat at seeing my torso, was none other than Mello. I felt my face grow very hot, but I didn't know if I was blushing.

But Mello was blushing. A lot.

"Uh..um…Near?" He sounded nervous, or worried. Great, now I probably scared him to death. Why was I always so unlucky!

Realizing I was still holding up my shirt, I slipped it down again as quick as I could. I stayed silent on the floor, waiting for Mello to leave, or to at least say something. I knew that if I said anything I would pay for it later.

Then he did the thing I least expected him to do. He went over to where the mug was, picked it up, and gently handed it to me. Well, he tried to, but I was in such shock that I didn't move my hand. Because of this, he decided to grab my wrist and make me take the mug. Now I knew I was blushing. Slowly, he glanced down at my stained shirt. He was probably trying to find something to say.

"Uh, are you okay?"

_Am I okay? _The words ran through my head. Did Mello, the boy who would've just laughed at me and kicked my burn, let those words escape his mouth? Call me crazy, but I think he just did. What to say, what to say…

"Yes, I am. Now will you not stare at my stomach?"

Damn, damn, damn! Why did I say that?! It was comments like that that would ruin the most blissful moment in my whole lifetime! What if Mello didn't hear me? I looked up at his face once more. His angelic features were twisted in somewhat disgust, but I could see that he was, in a way, …offended. He had heard loud and clear, so now was all I could do was sit and wait for him to leave.

It was probably four minutes and he still hadn't left. I still hadn't stood up. To him it probably was some sort of competition between us, to see which one would collapse and leave the other. He was waiting for me to leave and I was waiting for him to leave. I didn't know what to do. He wanted me to leave, so should I just leave with some sort of dignity? I would have a legimate excuse. Then again, I could just sit there and stare at him until he left. I would just have to tell Mrs. Wilson that I was lost. No, that wouldn't work! She would ask why I didn't come back and ask her or someone in the hall and I'd have a very crummy answer. I didn't want to.

This was a lose-lose situation, which bugged me the most. Mello looked unmoved, except that he also looked aggravated, and I knew that my original facial expression was…well, still on. He was probably even more frustrated with me.

I'd have to leave first. Hopefully I could get away with it.

Trying to stand up, I rubbed my stomach and looked up at the blond.

"I'm on an errand, I need to leave." It was hard to sound cool when Mello was a few inches away from my face. I prayed to myself that he couldn't tell I was nervous. Because I was.

I took my first step and suddenly felt Mello's strong hand on my arm. Unwanted touch was what came to mind. I could feel my eyes widen slightly before I turned around and smacked the hand out of fear, causing Mello to put a tighter on me. I wanted to yell, tell him to go away, anything to make him leave. My arm was aching as memories of my father ran through my mind in a way that scared me and every time I tried to pull away from the older boy, the grip was tightened. It caused so much pain.

"Mello…." I stared at him putting a sour face on that would hopefully get through to him. But it didn't.

"I'm not leavin'…" he got so close to my face that I could feel his hot breath on my cheeks. "Until you answer me."

Answer him about what? Where I was going? No, I doubt that he wouldn't care.

Once again he tightened his grip and I held back a yelp. He asked as if he was talking to a three year old, "Are. You. Okay?"

Oh, that. What was I supposed to say? _Well, my arm hurts, my stomach is burning and I feel very hot_. That would be stupid to say.

"Okay, just a little shook by the thermal heat. From the coffee." I put emphasis on thermal and coffee so he wouldn't get the impression I was hot because of him. That would be awkward.

Mello let go of my arm and his expression softened, but only a little. I rubbed my arm and walked away quickly at this before I hear him say, "That's good."

"Near, dear heart, where have you been?"

Mrs. Wilson ran over to me, her red-orange hair falling from her bun as usual. It was ten minutes before class would end, which basically meant I would have to make up all this time with an extra class. Mrs. Wilson grabbed the mug of coffee and looked skeptically at me.

"Near, what is that stain from? Is that coffee?"

I mentally slapped myself for not remembering to go up to my room and change shirts. My story with Mello would cause something, I could tell. Not only that, but after I left the blond in the hall I still didn't know where to go so I had to wonder until I saw another person, in a way, it was exasperating.

"Yes." I replied. "Just a little spill."

It hurt. My arm, my torso, my head, it was all hurting. After class I went straight to my room, changing my dirty shirt and putting an ice pack on my arm. Mello had a very tight grip.

"Ah!" I softly yelped as the cold ice met my upper arm. I hated it when I yelped or squeaked. That always showed a sign of weakness, no, a sign to be vulnerable didn't it? Or maybe it just reminded me of the sounds when I still lived with my father…

'_No, no, no!' _I mentally yelled at myself. '_Nothing happened! Nothing happened!!' _Of course I knew I was sexually abused as a small child, but I was in such denial. Some days I would act as if my Wammy room was my tiny old room at my original home, only my dad wasn't across the hall from me. I'd never be fooled by my stupid act, but I'd always hope it would let me drift to a completely different place where nobody knew me. Where I was never taken away from a loving mother, I had a few friends and I could talk without being considered sick.

I only wished though, and that was all I could do. I knew for a fact I was one of those people meant to be used, to not be happy.

I thought I'd live a loveless life, without anyone or anything but my mind.

I snapped out of my terrible thoughts when I heard a knocking on my door.

A knocking?

No one ever came to my room; they didn't want to take time out of their day to visit someone like me. It could've been Roger telling me something important, or L on a visit.

The door knocked again. It was someone, so all I could do was quietly say, "Come in."

As if they were listening at the door, they heard me and automatically opened the door to me room. My eyes barely widened when I saw the one who was knocking on my door was Mello.

After a few silent seconds, I let my eyes go back to a more relaxed state and calmly said, "Hello Mello."

He hesitated before he replied, "…Hello Near."

**Continues on the upcoming chapter!!! Review?**


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